Chapter 2

The Boston split

1974 saw the split in the first major split in an APsaA institute in two decades. Five senior training analysts walked out of the Boston Psychoanalytic Society and Institute (BPSI) to form another much smaller institute, the Psychoanalytic Institute of New England East (PINE). This institute became the second APsaA affiliated psychoanalytic institute in the Boston area in 1975.

These events caused high emotion in Boston as well as in the APsaA which, uncharacteristically, permitted the split to occur.1 The exploration of the complex reasons behind the Boston split will shed light on the dynamics of psychoanalytic institutions.

BPSI psychoanalyst and psychoanalytic historian, Sanford Gifford, who chairs the APsaA's History and Archives Committee, closely observed the split. He believed it 'doesn't lend itself to elegant structuralisation or defining issues. From the beginning it was obscure even as it was happening'.2 According to BPSI analyst and Harvard Business School emeritus professor, Abraham Zaleznik, 'There was no scientific, etiological or substantive basis of the split' but 'there are rationalisations'.3

I will argue that the split arose out of problems with the use of and access to power in psychoanalytic politics and in the life of the institute. In particular, this included access to training analyst status, an issue we have seen to be crucial in the New York Psychoanalytic Institute. Such problems, in turn, point to issues about the nature of the profession of psychoanalysis itself. As the leader of the APsaA visiting committee to Boston put it, 'Training analyst status and the differentials that come from that turn out to be behind just about every problem that gets to any magnitude'.4

History of the BPSI

The BPSI has had several lives. The first Boston Psychoanalytic Society, formed by James Jackson Putnam, became a constituent society of the IPA in 1914 but ceased to meet after Putnam's death in 1918. The Boston Psychoanalytic Society was revived in 1928 by an early member, Isador Coriat, who united three study groups that represented followers of Jung, Otto Rank and Paul Schilder. This amalgam was reorganised in 1930 and was joined by a group of Americans led by Ives Hendrick. Hendrick was one of the best trained Americans of the time, having just returned from two years' training at the Berlin Psychoanalytic Institute.5 Hendrick and the three other young psychiatrists who had studied at the Berlin and Vienna institutes set up the first 'Freud Seminar' in the winter of 1930-31. After some struggle with the senior members who opposed setting up a training program, the seminar led to formalised training procedures.6

The following years saw training procedures created that were more authoritarian than the Berlin institute which served as the BPSI's model. The BPSI provided training with analyses conducted by a recognised 'training analyst', a faculty who taught seminars, and a 'control analysis' with low-fee patients. Both the new Boston Psychoanalytic Society and the Boston Psychoanalytic Institute (with the same membership as the society) were affiliated with the APsaA in 1933. During 1934-35, the Boston Psychoanalytic Institute organised a full program of didactic courses was, and on December 31, 1935 the institute became a legal entity. A division of labour was arranged whereby the Trustees organised the business affairs of the institute while the Education Committee elected by the society handled the educational affairs. However, roles were always intertwined; many members of the Education Committee were also Trustees, the 1935 constitution even stipulating that the medically trained Education Committee members were also to be Trustees.7 In 1947, society and institute structures were combined officially as the Boston Psychoanalytic Society and Institute.8

The milieu of the Boston area should be appreciated. Over one tenth of US medical residents are trained in the Boston area and many analysts hold academic appointments in medical schools in the Boston area, the major university centre for the United States. In addition to their positions within the BPSI, training analysts and others held important academic and institutional posts in psychiatric services, general hospitals and medical schools. Boston's pre-eminence as a centre for the training in medicine and psychiatry was established in the 1930s and this fertile psychiatric soil was an important element in the development of the Boston Psychoanalytic Institute. The historically close relationship between psychiatric hospitals and departments of psychiatry and BPSI members has been a distinctive feature of the BPSI since its inception.9 The doctors who undertook their psychiatric training in the many residency-training programs in the Boston area were exposed to these analysts. Many were thereby influenced to understand and use an analytic viewpoint, to go into analysis or to apply to the institute for training. Boston is unique in that no city compares as a university city, and the university psychiatric programs were for many years psychoanalytic in nature.10 The unusual degree of involvement of Boston analysts with hospitals has been an important part of Boston psychoanalytic culture for decades. It provides one reason for the remarkably good reputation for decades of psychoanalysis in Boston medical circles.11 However, those who left the BPSI to form PINE believed that the achievement of such extensive community involvement was at the expense of a focus on analytic work. Whereas in New York during the 1970s the prototypical analyst would analyse ten hours a day, the work of the Boston analyst was more varied with greater involvement with the community and universities. Many Boston analysts saw their patients early and late in the day to engage in administrative or scholarly activities at the medical school in the middle of the day.12

According to the BPSI Constitution, the society is responsible for all functions except for the educational programs concerned with training, teaching and graduating candidates. The Education Committee under the aegis of the Boston Psychoanalytic Institute carries these out.13 Paul Myerson, president of the BPSI 1972-74, expressed the prevailing view of the ramifications of the BPSI structure: 'If the BPSI had been set up originally as a totally autonomous institute not beholden in any way to the society, the institute could have done what it pleased'. Most psychoanalytic institutes are like the New York Psychoanalytic Institute where the institute is separate from the society and is not overseen by it. However, the BPSI was set up in terms of the Boston Charter in which the membership prevailed and the institute was under the aegis of the membership organisation, the society. Consequently, the society could at least theoretically 'stack the Education Committee' if it needed to overpower the institute at any time. In Myerson's view,

If you have an autonomous institute, what price do you pay in terms of its being moulded in the character of a few people who have hidebound and never changing ideas about who should teach and what psychoanalysis is all about? It's the advantages of democracy over dictatorship. There are some advantages to dictatorship at certain times but there are some great disadvantages. The disadvantage here would have been that it would have made many disgruntled people in Boston. Which I think would have influenced the practice not only of analysis but psychotherapy in Boston and would probably have led people away from the BPSI.14

Thus, although the society and institute were part of a unitary institution for much of the BPSI's history, in reality the BPSI was under the direction of the institute which the Committee of Training Analysts controlled. Since the system of checks and balances made the institute constitutionally and financially answerable to the society, the institute could be challenged if the membership felt it necessary.

Many who remained in the BPSI viewed the problems that led to the split along these lines, as resulting from a struggle between democracy and autocracy, between heterodoxy and orthodoxy. However, those who left saw such divisions as the wrong cut-from their perspective, autocracy was not the major or relevant issue. However, they saw other issues as important, such as commitment to psychoanalysis as a large part of analysts' professional lives, expertise and standards, and the optimal size of an institute.

However, it would be simplistic to see the split as about democracy versus autonomy, where the democrats remained in the BPSI and the autocrats split off to form PINE. Still, it is important to note that the unified structure of the BPSI (along with the Los Angeles Psychoanalytic Society and Institute) occupies one end of the spectrum of the relation of society to institute. Most psychoanalytic societies and institutes are more or less separate entities but the formal relationships vary greatly within the APsaA. While the institute is responsible for analytic education (including the appointment of training analysts), the society acts is a forum for scientific presentations and debate with little power over training. The Chicago Psychoanalytic Institute, with its own large budget and lay Board of Trustees, is a distinct entity whereas in Boston and Los Angeles the society and institute are components of the same institution. While separate from the society, the New York Psychoanalytic Institute relies on the membership of the society, which is coincident with the membership of the institute. The greater the separation of society and institute, the greater the institute's power and autonomy. Training analysts and appointed officers such as director or dean have more power in relatively autonomous institutes.

Considering the differences between how an organisation is formally supposed to run, how it appears to work, how it does work and how it should work are essential to understanding it.15 Psychoanalytic organisations have a generic problem: society and the institute aims may and often do conflict. As we have seen, the society acts as a forum of ideas and advances the aims of its members whereas the institute's aim is educational. The educational aims of the institute are often tainted by and conflated with the power requirements of the particular group or clique that controls it. This is widespread since no clear, public procedural protocols operate about the definition of psychoanalytic terms and practices, the aims of psychoanalytic education, or the nature of psychoanalytic institutions. Given such ambiguities, society members suspect the 'expertise' of the training analysts and other institute members. Power plays dominate when definitions are unmoored and ambiguity is endemic.

The training analysts who controlled the Education Committee of the institute directed the educational arm of the BPSI, the institute. That committee, consisting exclusively of training analysts, and its subcommittees directed the training of all candidates.16 The training analysts' power in performing institute functions in Boston came to be increasingly resented by the membership. It angered the ordinary members that as members of the Education Committee the training analysts elected themselves on to the Students' Committee which governed candidate promotions and graduation.17 As early as 1958, there was unrest that the society was the 'tail of the kite'. By the 1960s an unusual apathy prevailed within the society/institute which was under the de facto rule of an oligarchy of training analysts, this within a formal structure in which the society-and thus the members-officially owned the institute.

However, significant divisions within the training analyst group filtered down to the membership. These divisions were epitomised by the deep personal rivalries between two powerful and eminent Viennese émigré couples, close to Freud, Edward and Grete Bibring and Felix and Helene Deutsch. From the 1930s into the 1960s when a new generation of Americans took over,18 these two coteries dominated the Education Committee. The American analysts became identified with one camp or the other.19 Sam Silverman who trained at the BPSI in the late 1940s recalled,

When it came to how things were to be taught, the training analysts and the faculty knew it. You were listening to 'This is the wisdom, this is what is to be done, this is how you think'. They didn't say this but the people next to Freud directly or indirectly, people who were in Europe or people who came from this country to Europe got the 'word' and were not easily challenged. I think this was true of both sides. We know what psychoanalysis is, we will teach it to you and presumably, you then carry the torch, you become the keeper of the flame.20

The first society president trained after World War II, James Mann, was elected in 1964. All previous presidents were long time members who had been involved with the BPSI since the early 1930s. They included refugee European analysts close to Freud. According to James Mann, they 'were the "senior" analysts, very much admired and very much in control of both society and institute.21 The BPSI's increasing size meant relatively fewer faculty positions and cases to go around. Inevitably, this stymied careers. Given the inherent tensions of the BPSI's unified structure, the eruption of conflict was inevitable at some point.

For the BPSI and US psychoanalysis in general, the 1940s and 1950s were halcyon years, 'the years that were fat' where analysts chaired major psychiatry departments.22 Psychoanalysis was losing its pre-eminence among US mental health professions by the late 1960s with the introduction of more effective psychotropic drugs and the development of alternative therapies, Moreover, the research and training grant pool within NIMH was drying up-the decline in grants was felt especially keenly in Boston with its academic focus.23 Though still the 'finishing school' for a psychiatric career, psychoanalysis was becoming less popular with patients who were beginning to opt for the newly available shorter and less expensive treatments. However, the BPSI's size was increasing: the membership grew from 68 in 1953 to 144 in 1963, reaching 250 members by 1973.24 Thus, there was a larger pool of analysts to treat a smaller group of suitable patients. Analysts found it difficult to get enough analytic patients in the relatively small cities of Boston and Cambridge.25

This reflects a general problem of psychoanalytic institutes-how many analysts should be trained? While larger candidate numbers bring more training cases in the short term (first to those training analysts on the top of the 'food chain'), a larger membership ultimately meant smaller slices of a smaller analytic cake. Greater competition for a diminishing market meant that the APsaA's expansionist approach to attract more students became self-defeating.26 The nature and size of the psychoanalytic market often shifts over the decade between the beginning of a candidate's analytic training and graduation.

This is just what happened for those graduating from the BPSI in the late 1960s. Understandably, analysts did not readily relinquish a profession that demanded a further ten years study beyond their psychiatric licensing. So by the late 1960s there was no longer room for analysts in the many teaching hospitals in the Boston area including the seven associated with the Harvard Medical School, Tufts, Boston University, state hospitals and the Veterans Administration. As analysts began to turn inwards to the BPSI to find the intellectual and social satisfactions increasingly denied them outside, they became involved in what in 1973 Sanford Gifford saw to be 'a conventional power struggle in which we must fight to keep or to gain our fair share in the training functions of the institute.27 As Gifford put it,

Attempts were made to re-establish within our sheltering walls the clinics, teaching and research facilities, and the professional camaraderie we had previously enjoyed outside. A new reformist spirit arose, motivated by a variety of factors: by a yearning for professional solidarity, by economic anxieties related to our increasing size, and by a need to re-establish our identity as analysts. These needs were expressed in various proposals to broaden the scope of society activities, to reduce the traditional oligarchy of the Education Committee, and to make the position of faculty and training analyst more accessible to our membership.28

Candidate numbers, which exceeded those in any other APsaA institute, brought significant faculty burdens of administration, committee meetings, and more office staff. In February 1970, the Education Committee appointed an ad hoc committee to study the setting up of a deanship to lessen the burden. The proposal was for making the training program more like a graduate school, humanising it by paying more attention to students.29

The deanship

On March 10, 1971, the society agreed to fund the position of dean in what the BPSI president described as a 'spirit of unanimity'.30 James Mann was approached to take up that position to devote ten to fifteen hours per week for a modest salary. Mann said he agreed

out of the feeling that this was a genuinely progressive step since it indicated that the Senior Faculty, which now included other post World War II trained analysts, recognised that there could be ways of reducing the burden and making for smoother function of the institute. I did not recognize that this was to be done without diminishing by one iota any of the control and direction of the faculty.31

In the words of the president, Ed Daniels, Mann's appointment as dean was 'hailed'. The appointment was on a two-year experimental basis from September 1971 with the task, according to Daniels, of 'coordinating the academic, intellectual, and scientific affairs of the society'.32

Mann decided to devote most of his first year to the student body.33 What he learned was disturbing. By October 1972 he could say, 'For most candidates, the period of studenthood (a period ranging from five to ten years) was markedly colored by fear and by a conception of the institute as some kind of mysteriously functioning organization which enhanced the sense of fear and, in some instances, bordered on paranoid considerations'.34 Mann encountered

a persistent fear that expressions of dissent or of searching questions were not only taboo but that there was some kind of reporting apparatus so that everything became known to the 'institute' with the dangers of setbacks in the progress of the candidate. No one seemed to know just how and by what rules the institute functioned so that the question of fairness was always raised.

Not surprisingly, many institute graduates were angry and resentful. They still felt like strangers after many years in the institute. They did not know how to become involved in teaching or other institute or society activities. In his report, Mann added, 'The training program infantilizes candidates and candidates make their own contribution to that. The anonymity and ambiguity of the institute procedures and judgments add to the sense of infantilization as well as to a suspicious and even paranoid one... the institute is sorely in need of humanization'. Mann felt that this statement

was received by some of the training analysts as severe criticism of their analytic excellence. I refused to accept all the candidates' criticisms as manifestations of their neurosis but [it was true] that we analysts in our organization do little to relieve those aspects of their difficulties that were real. The implication seemed clear that, in my opinion, the need of the 'senior' analysts was to maintain rigid control over every aspect of the institute within the senior group to the exclusion of the aspiring 'children' including graduates.35

As Mann put it in 1972, 'It is the training analyst who proposes, prohibits, promote, and disposes. The general atmosphere of the time encourages rebellion, protest, and anti-establishment sentiment so that the desire for openness and less intrusiveness promotes strong feeling about the encrusted authoritarian establishment, the "Training Analyst Club"'.36 At that point, according to Mann, some members of 'the senior group rose in protest, expressed unusual anger and bitterness toward me. A number of meetings were held for all society/institute members to discuss my report. Emotions ran high and the senior analysts demanded my resignation. I agreed believing that this would end the controversy'.37

Some saw Mann's personality as the problem. They saw him as remote, as having the wrong kind of personality for the job.38 Valenstein, for example, maintained that 'the major organizational mistake was choosing Jim Mann to be dean'. However, according to Gifford, 'even if he had been a different personality I think it still wouldn't have worked.39 Mann riled many analysts personally, and his authoritarian behaviour alienated others further. The 1972-74 president, Paul Myerson, recalled Mann acting inappropriately by not consulting members about anything he did.40 Mann undermined the autonomy of subcommittees when a battle over turf developed between the new Coordinating Committee (that included the dean and subcommittee chairs) and the Education Committee. BPSI analyst Ralph Engle noted, 'A storm of protest arose in the Education Committee over the right of the Coordinating Committee to make decisions without its consent. At the root of the uproar was a decision to have all communications to candidates be sent from the dean, who was perceived as usurping the Education Committee's power'.41 That all correspondence had to bear the dean's signature was, in Arthur Valenstein's view, 'just like being back in the army, which is "By order of the Commanding Officer, Colonel so-and-so". We spent too much time in the military to stand for that sort of thing. He added insult to injury'. Mann's authoritarianism was odd, given his concern about the lack of democracy at the BPSI.42 Although these actions by the Coordinating Committee were finally rescinded and the power and autonomy of the Education Committee restored, as Engle put it, this 'also led to divisiveness within it, as well as between the committee and the dean'.43

In his hamhanded way, Mann had tried to break the de facto power of the Education Committee over the unitary society/institute. But who had the right to power? Should it have been the 'people', i.e. the membership of the society that supported institute activities, or the faculty of training analysts who expected autonomy as authorised 'experts' in the area?

During 1973, Mann talked with many dissatisfied society members, particularly those middle-aged members who had not made it to training analyst status. This group was mobilised against the training analysts who were seen to hold on to unduly high standards and control of the institute. So great was the opposition to the mobilisation of this group that Education Committee members from all sides reached a consensus that Mann should not continue as dean.

Mann's efforts rebounded when he tried to assert his authority against that of the Education Committee, the body that appointed him. In 1973, the Education Committee approved the recommendation of an ad hoc institute committee to study the functioning of the deanship chaired by Paul Myerson.44 They recommended that the two-year experiment of the part time deanship be discontinued. The Education Committee had recommended the establishment of the deanship before they had 'worked through the ambiguities inherent in the introduction of an important new position into so complicated an organization as the Society/Institute'. The ad hoc committee recommended 'an interruption to the office while its functions and structure were further evaluated.45 Myerson told the members that the Ad Hoc Committee's recommendation to interrupt the deanship was based on 'the considerable strain that had developed within the Education Committee' since the creation of the deanship had done 'more harm than good'. It was essential to have an evaluation period where 'new, and hopefully, more structured ground-rules' could be formulated and time allowed for the escalating polarization to subside'. While this did not imply abolition of the deanship, a 'cooling off' period was required for a new committee to make recommendations.46 After informing Mann of the decision not to continue his position, Myerson announced it to the society through the President's Newsletter on May 24, 1973.

Most members were not impressed. Gifford recalled that the decision was seen as 'an outrageous act of abusive power by the Education Committee'.47 The leading society activist during that period, Leonard Friedman, regarded the manner in which the suspension of the deanship was presented as 'immensely oligarchic and autocratic'. Friedman recalled that the Education Committee 'rather arbitrarily decided that they were going to fire the dean even though the membership in the majority supported the deanship being continued. That was the last straw in terms of the high-handedness of the Education Committee'. Friedman met with other society members to consider future action.48 Myerson recalled that 'people got very, very angry indeed' about such a fait accompli. The society seemed set on a collision course with the training analysts. Some members suggested that everybody should be a training analyst, some that nobody should be a training analyst for more than five years.49 The furore released the pre-existing tensions between society members and the Education Committee.

At the next business meeting of the BPSI on June 13, 1973, many members voiced their dismay at what they saw as the autocratic fashion in which Mann was fired. That meeting asked the Education Committee to reconsider its decision but this was to no avail. The Education Committee's action underscored society members' experiences of exclusion from institute activities.50 In his President's Newsletter, Myerson emphasised that, as was the case with similar tensions between society and institute in six other institutes he had site visited,

the heart of the matter is the question of appointment to training analyst status. Who is to be appointed, who makes the selection, and how? I do not mean that this is the only source of the tension, but I do believe that unless there is open and constructive discussion of this matter, the tension between the society and the institute will remain unresolved... To put the debate in a nutshell, it is a question of 'maintaining quality control' vs. 'opportunity for development'.

Myerson suggested that three business meetings in the coming academic year be devoted to discussing this issue. 51

Society unrest and the reformist movement

The suspension of the deanship became the focus for protest as factions crystallised around Mann, in a curious coming together of the dissatisfied of all ages.52 In Gifford's view, the termination of the deanship signalled an implied vote of no confidence in the fruits of the deanship in the education of candidates.53 However, the economic and professional dissatisfactions, which gave rise to the deanship, had not been solved and the ramifications of the deanship were leading towards still further polarisations.

Gifford recalled meetings where Leonard Friedman acted as a 'tribune of the people'. A JD as well as an MD, Friedman was in Gifford's view, an 'arch-legalist', 'litigious and the master of parliamentary procedure'. According to Gifford, Friedman alienated many analysts because he appeared to be the fanatical leader of the anti-Education Committee faction.54 Myerson recalled Friedman as 'a very forceful person who would hold up extreme positions'. Friedman upset significant training analysts who worked very hard only to be told that they were feathering their own nests. Myerson added,

Obviously, they're going to be very angry. They felt unappreciated. The other group felt that they weren't appreciated either-nobody had promoted them. It's more Marxist than Freudian in its origins. At least it was more due to economics or system difficulties with the haves and the have-nots and I think that always leads to a certain strain in an institution.55

Although Friedman had not previously been much involved in society activities, he now represented the reformist members of the society. A sizeable minority shared his specific concerns while others had specific grievances. Friedman estimated that of the 250 members there was a nucleus of 50-60 reformists. Another 20 showed some sympathy, while 60-70 percent were uncommitted. Friedman viewed the 'basic stifling force' in the BPSI as 'the way the Education Committee was chosen, and the way they chose training analysts, which seemed to me totally oligarchic and doctrinaire. Although scarcely the model of a democratic institution, the governance of the university would be a better model. I thought the Education Committee ought to be elected by a majority of the society'.56 He proposed an elected Education Committee of forty members as a minimal contribution to righting these structural problems.57 However, he would like to have changed the structure of the BPSI by taking the training analysis function away from the institute. This would have allowed candidates to choose any reputable member for their personal analysis. That analyst would never be contacted for a report on the candidate. The Education Committee would make its decision solely on the candidate's performance in seminars and supervised analyses.58 At the time, many younger members wanted a nonreporting training analyst policy according to which the candidate's training analyst would not take part in the deliberations of the Students' Committee nor be consulted by it about that candidate's progress.59 Friedman knew his proposal was bound to upset 'the establishment' who urged withdrawal of a constitutional amendment he submitted to that effect.60 According to Friedman, the leadership did not want the issue to come to a vote at such an emotional time.

Instead of pushing the amendment to a record vote, Friedman proposed that the BPSI meet as a Committee of the Whole to consider all views. A series of both small group and plenary discussions about training analyst status and related issues resulted. Friedman dropped his proposal when it became clear after some months that his position did not command sufficient support. For the amendment to pass, a two-thirds majority vote was required after discussion at two society meetings.61 Many proposals for selection and appointment of training analysts were debated. The meetings urged reform of the structure of the institute and the democratisation of the Education Committee.62 The debates brought the confrontation between society and institute to a head as the interests of the members who felt disenfranchised clashed with those of some of the training analysts.

Over the next several months, training analyst Bob Gardner (who was to become the leader and spokesperson of the group that split) emerged as speaking for the more conservative view, hinting that he had some entirely new alternative proposals. However, according to Friedman, Gardner did not reveal his position until the training analysts split. 'Evidently, the alternative proposal was for the split, but he presented it at the time in a very ambiguous way'. In December 1973 a committee consisting of the Education Committee representatives, the reformists and the uncommitted middle, was established to discuss proposals for change and evolve solutions to the society/institute antagonisms. This process resulted in the majority eventually rejecting Friedman's radical proposal that everyone should become a training analyst. James Mann said it would lead to chaos. The Education Committee denied that democratic procedures were appropriate to a psychoanalytic institute. They saw the institute as a hierarchy of expertise: the training analysts group had special knowledge on which they based their decisions and should not be subject to the decision of others who were not privy to that knowledge. The control of important information by a minority was, in Friedman's view, anathema to democratic values.63 It 'violates the peer structure of our group', Friedman argued, to assign responsibility for all educational activity to the nine percent of the membership who were training analysts.

The lack of objectively specified standards, the lack of objectively specified training standards, the lack of an established training procedure for those wishing to prepare for the work of doing training analyses, the attitude of secrecy about these matters-all are more appropriate to a club than to a scientific body.64

The January 1974 minutes of a small discussion group of the Committee of the Whole expressed the concerns of the time:

There is a sense of malaise... there is a sense that there are two classes of membership in the society, with one class being relegated to the category of second class citizens... A small, self-perpetuating segment of the society controls the affairs of the society through the Education Committee, as virtually all significant policy decisions are subsumed under the heading of 'educational matters'.65

Although some training analysts would make only minor concessions, Myerson remembered Gardner as being more flexible. However, the society was not impressed with a report in which Gardner tried hard to draw up rules giving more power to the society but keeping the power on institute matters within the training analysts' group. Gardner and Samuel Kaplan proposed greater separation of institute and society.66 According to Myerson, 'This was, however, only after there had been many meetings. We were meeting practically weekly and I was getting all kinds of phone calls and pressure from various groups. I managed to keep my cool very well but come weekends I'd have dreams of beating people up'.

The society's rejection of Gardner's report provided, in Myerson's words, 'the basis of the split'. Nothing had been resolved from the many meetings of members with the Committee of Training Analysts. Dissatisfied that the society refused to leave the educational role to the institute, Gardner and others took the matter back to the Committee of Training Analysts.67 On April 4, 1974, the Committee of Training Analysts endorsed a proposal by Rolf Arvidson, Malvina Stock and Bob Gardner to appoint its own subcommittee to explore the option of two institutes in one society. On May 23, the Committee of Training Analysts discussed the report of the subcommittee and rejected the option as unfeasible.

Then, in an extraordinary move, the establishment decided to bail itself out and leave when it found itself unable to win. On May 28, 1974, five leading training analysts announced their plans to form a new institute in a letter to the president of the BPSI. 'This institute', they wrote, 'will be small and independent and will evolve in the direction of a full-time academic organisation. A number of innovations in analytic education are contemplated. This institute is intended to be complementary rather than competitive' with the BPSI and they hoped to cooperate with and remain members of the BPSI.68 Five analysts were necessary to create a new institute since the APsaA stipulates that an institute cannot operate without at least five bona fide recognised training analysts. These analysts (who became known as 'the Boston Five') were Bob Gardner, Ed Daniels, Malvina Stock, Rolf Arvidson and Sam Silverman. The BPSI was apprised of the letter of intent to the APsaA to form the Psychoanalytic Institute of New England East (PINE).

The idea for a split had come about from discussions within the training analyst group.69 Gardner emerged as their representative since he was an articulate, eloquent thinker with strong ideas.70 Those who left had close connections with the Bibrings.71 A meeting of the Committee of the Whole on May 29 was told that having rejected the 'two institutes in one society' proposal, these five analysts were organising a new, small, autonomous institute outside of BPSI. 'As might be expected, this last communication was followed by a strong negative reaction from many of the members present', Arthur Valenstein, wrote in his first president's newsletter two days later. 'The atmosphere was highly charged emotionally and, as I see it, the fact that a good many of the comments were critical and castigating did not help matters either'. A psychoanalytic scholar, Valenstein made a 'plea for moderation and objectivity, the time for fault-finding and "the casting of stones" should best be past'.72 This would not be heeded.

The split

When the 'Boston Five' announced their intention to leave to the training analysts Committee on May 28, 1974, Gardner expressed the hope that the other training analysts would join them in forming their own institute. The reasons given were the irremediable tensions and fighting in an acrimonious atmosphere together with the view that the best educational procedures occurred with a small group of dedicated analysts who devoted most of their time to thinking and working within the psychoanalytic field. Implicit in this, Myerson later suggested, was the view that those within the training analyst group who held major academic positions within psychiatry departments (such as Myerson who was Chairman of Psychiatry at Tufts) were diluting psychoanalysis in Boston. (Some of those who split felt that the BPSI members diluted Freud and psychoanalysis).73 That new report was then brought to the society whose members though outraged pleaded for these analysts to stay. They dropped the more radical demands including the proposal that everybody become a training analyst.

However, society members had understandable complaints about the institute's sometimes very high-handed and autocratic administration. Myerson recalled that no matter what the quality of teaching was, there was a tendency to prevent others becoming involved in the education of candidates. According to Myerson, the institute attempted to control the nature of the society's activities, taking a dim view of the extension courses and clinics society members desired.74

The society/institute discord was reflected in a conflict within the training analyst group. There the battle was between those wanting to continue to function within the relative autonomy of the institute and those wanting a greater degree of society participation in institute matters. Myerson recalled that about half of the training analysts decided to go with the secessionists while the other half, who thought the troubles were exaggerated, decided to stay.

Could the BPSI leadership have averted the level of polarisation that eventually resulted in the split? A senior candidate at the time, Robert Pyles considered that the split could have been prevented had the BPSI leadership assumed a 'real leadership position' during the anti-authoritarian era of the early 1970s. The lack of such leadership left the field open to others, such as Friedman, to act as spokesman for an important part of the society. For Pyles, 'There was no way to negotiate with him in a meaningful way. There was a real breakdown'.75

Like a couple unable amicably to agree to disagree while facing a painful divorce, there was intensity in the uncontrolled, unneutralized aggression. On the one hand, the institute secessionists held that psychoanalytic standards were being eroded and that the BPSI should be more focused on psychoanalysis. On the other hand, society members wanted more democracy and more for themselves. They wanted less oligarchic, authoritarian and rigid control of education, access to power, to training analyst status and referrals, the maintenance of ties with academic psychiatry and more involvement with the outside community.

The unrest came from middle-aged members; for graduates the debate was very much an economic question.76 A burgeoning membership and declining patient numbers per analyst together with a greater focus on the BPSI as a source of referrals brought increasing pressure on the TTWhen one generation controlling the institute to pass the baton on to the next generation by broadening access to training analyst status and institute power. At a time when analysts who were not training analysts had trouble finding two or three patients, training analysts could count on having at least two who were trainees. That obvious differential made for more envy, jealousy and rancour bringing back the focus on the training analyst as the top of the food chain.77 There was a question of supply and demand. Maintaining that training analyst status was a major dividing issue as it is elsewhere Arthur Valenstein recalled that there were a limited number of training analysts in an organisation largely centred on the institute. Nor did the society provide much opportunity. A great deal of restlessness, anger and frustration emerged from society members who in Valentstein's view had 'no place to go at the institute either except to vent their spleen.78 He recalled.

there was resentment of the old timers who came from Vienna and were our teachers. But that wasn't expressed by the group at large. It was hidden behind an honouring, veneration and, when they began to pass on in the 70s, idealisation of them. And the mantle fell on my generation. Then what was really owed the old timers as well as the new timers came on as an incipient storm. I think the rage and hostility belongs all the way back and not in the present. But it fell out in the present right then and there because then the idealisation in respect of their peers needn't be maintained-they were not the older generation. They were continuing in the same mode and that was no longer accepted. Then people came into positions who were also very angry. Like Jim Mann-totally tactless, confrontational and inflammatory. Enlisting some of the most inappropriate people behind him, some with dubious character, some with their own crusade like our lawyer Friedman. They used him. They got what they wanted, which was to take over and precipitate a split.79

Maintenance of 'standards' resulted in restricting involvement in teaching candidates and, more importantly, stemmed the flow of new analysts into the training analyst group. At the December 1974 Meeting of the APsaA, several site visitors expressed concern that many of the 'younger' members (in their forties or fifties!) felt no voice or room in the educational structure of the BPSI.80

The split finally occurred when those wanting to form PINE had had enough of wrangling and dissension, enough of the endless haggling and attempts to reorganise the structure of the institute and the society.81 Gardner exemplified this understandable position when he asked,

Can you imagine a busy practitioner having to come home to have supper and go to one crazy meeting after another-at the same time carrying out usual administrative functions, at the same time dealing with the tensions within any family?

According to Gardner, some training analysts 'honestly thought just a little more meeting and it will be all right. Others thought, this is already beyond the pale. If this goes any further, it will be totally disruptive, let's stop it while we can. Those were perfectly legitimate differences'.82

In any case, Gardner never thought the idea of a split was intrinsically bad (although that did not mean he was fomenting a split).83 After all, what is intrinsically wrong with analysts leaving one institute to form another? APsaA has always been against splits. Sometimes it might make sense for the APsaA to mediate to find out whether something is easily resolvable. However, if that is unsuccessful, why not simply allow the split? From the PINE viewpoint, theirs was a perfectly rational move and the opposition to it was irrational. The New York-Columbia split in 1946 was strongly opposed yet manifestly turned out well for all concerned. It did not take candidates away from the New York Psychoanalytic Institute but established more faculty positions and a larger pool of applicants. The BPSI-PINE result was finally positive for both institutes and brought about a greater pluralism in the Boston area. It brought about more vacant faculty and organisational positions in what was a very large society/institute.

After the initiation of the split by the Boston Five, others followed within the next few months. These included three analysts who were close to each other socially and professionally-Grete Bibring and Helen Tartakoff who were highly respected older analysts as well as Arthur Valenstein who had very good ties with the older generation84. As society president in the wake of the split during 1974-75 Valenstein attempted to maintain unity but left when the possibilities of constructive working together seemed to have been exhausted. He was strongly sympathetic to PINE making his continued presidency of the BPSI untenable. On March 31, 1975, Valenstein sent a letter of resignation as president to the membership. He wrote that his own views and policies-'live and let live' in the context of the evolution of two autonomous institutes-were at variance with those of the other BPSI officers.85 'I resigned as president because as a matter of ethics I couldn't do otherwise', Arthur Valenstein recalled. 'I didn't trust the motives of people who wanted us to stay. There was no chance for rapprochement. There was too much water under the bridge'.86 A neutral member, Charles Magraw-the first non-training analyst to become president-replaced Valenstein as president.87 Understandably, some analysts followed or were sorely tempted to follow their friends and analysts over to PINE.

PINE devised and circulated a position statement to all BPSI candidates at the request of the APsaA and of the BPSI candidates. Within a small institute comprising 'a few candidates and a few teachers in the professional closeness and lively atmosphere of a workshop' PINE envisioned an 'adventure of ideas'. PINE would be devoted to 'shared curiosity and search' and a flexible curriculum would be attuned to individual needs. No doubt referring to what they considered one of the BPSI's failings (faculty involved with psychiatry and teaching hospitals at the expense of their institute work), PINE stated, 'Teachers in PINE will make a central commitment to the practice and study of psychoanalysis and to the activities of PINE. They will make no major commitments to other professional organisations except in respect to carefully selected projects'. Reacting to what they left, the PINE analysts proposed that the administration was to be 'low key' with as few committees and officials as possible.88 PINE never bought a building and analysts still vie with each other not to be on committees.89 The issue of size was emphasised as a reason for creating a new institute.

When an organization reaches a certain size and complexity, all growth cannot take place within. There must be a judicious development of new and independent growth in cooperative interplay with the original organization. Such developments are not to be confused with secession or disintegration.90

Presented in this way, it was not so much a question that the BPSI had disintegrated but that it was too large. PINE was promising to cooperate with the BPSI organisation. No direct reference was made to the problems within the BPSI. While size no doubt involved greater problems (such as greater formality and administration and proportionally fewer faculty positions), deeper issues were at stake.91

Both those leaving and those staying had important concerns about the nature of psychoanalytic education. It has been assumed that those leaving were against democracy and openness. Although the PINE analysts stereotyped those remaining as mindless democrats unconcerned with psychoanalytic standards while those remaining mistakenly regarded the PINE analysts as conservative oligarchs, both those who left and those who stayed were all reacting in different ways to the authoritarianism that was so endemic at the BPSI. Many BPSI members were concerned about the power of training analysts while the training analysts who left were worried about the power of a large institute which they saw as so rigidly bureaucratised as to make a challenging student-centred psychoanalytic education impossible.

Gardner epitomised the interest in teaching in a small, intimate environment. As an 'institute without walls', PINE contrasted with the BPSI, which occupied a building with all that this entailed. One of the five, Sam Silverman, maintained that an important part of the reason for the splitting of the Boston Five was that they believed that in contrast to the history of the BPSI where oligarchy ruled, education should be student-centred rather than training analyst centred. Silverman wanted to form PINE for the purpose of 'open-ended discussion I felt was not possible at BPSI. No limits, no fears, allowing one to speak out about what one thought without expectation of recrimination or bad mouthing. Too much politics--there is always politics in an organisation but too much is another matter'.92

PINE applied to the Board on Professional Standards of the APsaA on June 24, 1974 for provisional affiliation. For most of the remaining year, there was little discussion; many did not believe that anything would happen yet the silence from PINE over much of that period hardened the lines of bitterness.93

It was a three-stage battle. First, there were the protracted deliberations of the Committee of the Whole of the BPSI, in which the reformers battled the old guard. Second, the 'Boston Five' wanted to leave, form an institute and be recognised and the mainstream of the BPSI did not want to let them go. Third, the split was finalised after an APsaA committee visit to Boston and battles within the APsaA.94

Gifford recalled the stages in his own reactions while he was an elected non-training analyst member of the Education Committee. Initially, when the Boston Five decided to leave he did not like the fact that it was so divisive. Then he felt 'good riddance and only wished that Friedman and half a dozen of his closest allies would do the same' so that the majority would be left in peace.95 Gifford began to see PINE as 'a possibly interesting experiment' in September when Gardner proposed dual membership. Gardner maintained that they were not so much withdrawing as offering an additional, specialised form of teaching for the very small numbers that wanted it. Gifford began to see PINE as 'different from the usual vertical split that has occurred in so many other psychoanalytic institutes and that Boston was always regarded as uniquely virtuous (and a bit snobby about it) in having escaped'. While the BPSI may have been too small for a split into halves, 'perhaps a tiny pseudopod could withdraw itself, partially separate, and still keep in open communication with the parent cell'.96

During the last months of 1974, PINE began to set up its faculty. Inviting Sanford Gifford to join the PINE faculty, Gardner wrote that PINE was an 'exciting venture' and that participation in its faculty would not preclude involvement with the BPSI. 'Most of the faculty of the new institute will serve in both institutes, and we look forward to cooperation and creative exchange between the two organizations'. Gardner maintained, 'We can build a small, first-rate psychoanalytic organization without political and hierarchical hoopla.'97 Gifford was glad to accept: 'The idea of a small, friendly group, with a minimum of committee-work appeals to me'.'98 The contrast with the BPSI could not have been stronger. Even the BPSI candidates of the period felt alienated and echoed the feelings in the New York Psychoanalytic Institute around the same time. Instead of using 'we' language, the BPSI candidates used 'them versus us' language. During a period when training analysts still reported on the progress of their analysands, candidates did not trust the privacy of their communications, creating endless paranoia.99 PINE, it must be remembered, was not a society but an institute, a teaching institution with an invited or appointed faculty. (PINE's society remained the BPSI until 1989 when its own society was formed). PINE could have started larger but wanted to remain small and intimate. PINE later discouraged some others including training analysts from joining.100 However, PINE's promise not to 'deplete the ranks or resources' of BPSI 'now or tomorrow' was not strictly fulfilled since half of the BPSI training analysts left for PINE,101 although their ranks were quickly replaced in the BPSI. PINE was right about its further claim: 'it is and will remain small'.102

The BPSI continued to fight the PINE secession. On December 8, 1974 most of the officers of the BPSI telegrammed the Board on Professional Standards urging delay of consideration of the affiliation of PINE to allow further time for the resolution of the conflict without a split 'Approval will obliterate any possibility of reconciliation', they wrote. They feared 'irreparable' damage to the BPSI from the new institute and requested 'the help of The American to explore and resolve the differences'.103 This was followed up by a letter with 61 signatures which included those of eight training analysts and 20 members of the faculty, petitioning delay and the need for negotiation (The then president, Arthur Valenstein, was not a signatory).104 The APsaA Board on Professional Standards accepted both the BPSI's requests, voting to defer the application for provisional status for a new Boston institute until the next meeting of the APsaA in May 1974, as well as accepting the BPSI's invitation for a subcommittee of the board to mediate.105

After the December meetings of the APsaA the rancour at the BPSI Education Committee reached such a high level that Gifford was tempted to heed his friend, Arthur Valenstein's advice to any sensible would-be neutral 'to head for the woods'. Further, a fertile soil for rumours was created because Gardner had said little since the application of PINE for APsaA affiliation.106 Challenged about his silence, Gardner told Gifford that the time had passed for public statements, and that he had been requested by the APsaA's Board on Professional Standards to say nothing until a Visiting Committee had come to Boston.107 Nevertheless, from Gifford's perspective, the silence 'only intensified the mutual antagonisms and hardened each side into more intransigent positions'.108 Gifford wrote at the time:

Personal animosities on all sides had intensified, and the grim, humorless voice of self-righteousness was heard everywhere. A close friend in private might suddenly sound like a Savonarola, or even a Torquemada, at public meetings. Enforced silence and ignorance of current policies from the new institute had made all discussion meaningless or filled with mistrust. I felt personally silenced, when I had always talked freely about my likes and dislikes to friends on both sides.

The option of two institutes within one society was not viable in the context of prevalent anger and bitterness. Gifford concluded, 'There is no choice but separation, to be arranged with as much remaining friendliness and civility as we can still muster'.109

The McLaughlin Committee

As we have seen, the Board on Professional Standards accepted the urgent request from the officers of the BPSI consultation and investigation by a committee of the APsaA's Board on Professional Standards at the December meetings of the APsaA. Consequently, an ad hoc committee of the Board on Professional Standards visited Boston on January 24, 1975 for two and a half days to investigate the possibility of mediation and reconciliation. The committee met with many groups, including the candidates. The BPSI then had a membership of 250 with 125 active participants, including 60 active faculty. The APsaA group was led by Pittsburgh analyst James McLaughlin, then a recent secretary of the Board on Professional Standards. McLaughlin was universally respected for his integrity, independence, thoughtfulness and perspicacity. McLaughlin considered that the increasing personal antagonism and atmosphere of mistrust made any meaningful reconciliation impossible. The committee concluded that the health of psychoanalysis in Boston would be better served if two institutes 'different yet excellent, could eventuate as against the probably corrosive consequences of an attempted forced unity'. It recommended that the Board on Professional Standards acknowledge the inevitability of the split and foster negotiations to find optimal methods of separation and explore 'what could be accomplished in reducing acrimony and fostering decent coexistence'.110

The McLaughlin Committee was set up by the chair of the APsaA's Board on Professional Standards, Joan Fleming, with the express intention of delaying the split and negotiating further. Fleming's approach was to create a communicative educational atmosphere in troubled institutes. However, she miscalculated in choosing James McLaughlin, Carl Adato and Larry Hall as its members since none of them intended taking the 'inspector-general' approach so characteristic of the Committee on institutes during that period. However, the members of that committee, who were not friends of the PINE analysts111, were convinced that a split was not undesirable and recommended that the APsaA allow a split. 'We came back with the sense that this division was a fait accompli. It was like an alienated marriage that had gone so far that a divorce was inevitable. Surely, this is a big enough city that these two organizations can prosper'.112

Fearing destructive local consequences and dreading possible precedent which would create effects nationally the BPSI strongly disagreed with the consultative committee and instead recommended a five-year moratorium. However, the ad hoc committee maintained that given the existing pain and damage 'there was clearly no solution which could remotely satisfy all concerned'. The group viewed philosophical and educational differences as minor as compared with a crisis brought about by conflict and dissension.113 One group portrayed the BPSI as too large for optimal analytic education while the other saw Boston as too small for two institutes. PINE deplored what they saw as the too broad, experimental curriculum, unwieldy size and conglomerate nature of the society and maintained that they had the advantages of smallness, minimal fiscal/administrative outlays and maximal involvement of teachers and candidates. Nonetheless, the BPSI feared damage if some of its best teachers left and that its public image would be compromised. They were afraid that PINE would develop into a significant rival of the BPSI and not remain a small, relatively informal group.114

The idea that Boston was not big enough for two institutes was, in Gifford's view, 'hysteria of the silliest kind'. This was not borne out during the next decade in which both institutes prospered. The other mistaken fear was that PINE would create dozens of ill-trained training analysts since PINE appointed very few training analysts. The great silence created much bad feeling since the silence seemed, in Gifford's words, 'spooky and secretive'. PINE did not answer the question as to what it stood for and represented in detail, making PINE sound more like a philosophical society than a training institute.115 Gardner regretted not having been more public about what PINE stood for although he had spoken with many analysts individually about it.116 Analysts' fantasies expanded to fill the vacuum.

The APsaA put PINE under the aegis of its Committee of New Training Facilities. The CNTF explored PINE facilities and voted in favour of it after which it went before the Board on Professional Standards. The APsaA had asked PINE to wait for consideration of accreditation as an institute because, according to Gardner, 'it was creating so much storm and upsetting people so much.'117 At the May 1975 Meeting of the APsaA in Los Angeles, the board gave PINE approval to proceed by a large majority.118 There was great heat on both sides but most board members were indifferent. A petition was submitted that PINE would destroy the old institute, that PINE was taking the BPSI's best teachers and that the BPSI would be left in chaos. 'We didn't believe that', Gardner asserted. 'We thought they were overestimating what we meant and underestimating what they could do. At this point, I was absolutely incensed, not about the grounds of the controversy but about the notion that one should prevent the development of a new school. That seems to me a little close to book burning when it gets into that.119 There was a fierce debate at the APsaA's Board on Professional Standards in which Gardner won the day for PINE by delivering, as John Gedo recalled, a 'positively Churchillian' rebuttal of the BPSI position. Gardner framed his argument in moral terms of 'academic freedom.'120

The APsaA performed a pivotal role in allowing the new institute to be affiliated since PINE was the only secession permitted by the APsaA since the era of the 1940s and 1950s splits. The last split was at the Philadelphia institute in 1956. A precedent could have been created whereby the APsaA would support discontented analysts who wanted to split rather than resolve problems. As we shall see, the APsaA opposed the split in the Los Angeles Psychoanalytic Institute, which occurred not long before PINE, and was near to closing it down. The APsaA did not countenance a later split in the Washington institute, punishing those trying to leave and has allowed no others to this day.121

Why was PINE so special? Abraham Zaleznik thought that if it had not been for highly respected analysts identified with PINE-Bibring and Tartakoff- the APsaA would not have let it happen.122 Myerson thought the PINE analysts 'were very friendly with some of the people on The American big committees and I think they influenced them. Malvina Stock, Bob Gardner, Valenstein and Tartakoff had many friends in the APsaA and they had been very active there'.'123 A member of the Boston Five, Rolf Arvidson, agreed with Myerson's view, suggesting that Stock, Valenstein and Gardner were on powerful committees and had powerful friends within the APsaA.124 Gardner disagreed: 'I never had "power" in The American. Neither I nor others in PINE were powerful members of The American. Tartakoff and Bibring were semi-retired analysts.'125

However, while Gardner may not have had personal influence with the APsaA, the powers-that-be had especially good relations with the Grete Bibring-Helen Tartakoff-Arthur Valenstein nexus, who were on the Bibring side of the Bibring-Deutsch rift. (Some believe that the rift was a causal factor in the split while others do not).126 Arthur Valenstein, who was analysed and supervised by Edward Bibring, was respected as a training analyst as he inherited Bibring's mantle as a teacher of theory.127 As chair of psychiatry at Beth Israel, Grete Bibring was Valenstein's chief, and Helen Tartakoff was close to Grete Bibring.128 Many in the APsaA would not have lightly rejected an institute proposed by these very senior analysts. On the other hand, Joan Fleming, then Chairman of the APsaA's Board on Professional Standards, and members of the Board on Professional Standards were influenced by the BPSI's campaign and strongly opposed the split. The independent McLaughlin Committee reported against the position that the APsaA wished them to adopt. It was obviously a complex scenario-had the McLaughlin Committee recommended otherwise, the split might well not have eventuated. The APsaA was not so much in favour of the PINE option as divided. Whatever the case, a necessary condition for accreditation of the split by the APsaA was that respected analysts were identified with PINE. PINE had seized what Gardner described as a 'rare moment.'129

The BPSI's fears were not warranted. While a number of analysts left, many remained in the BPSI. McLaughlin recalled there being 'no sense of an exodus, of burning bridges behind, and a curse on those behind. I did feel there was more anger towards the PINE group coming from BPSI because of their sense of having their excellence somehow impugned by this designated superior group somehow pulling out. But I think that happens anytime that people get up and split off'.130 Members often see their institutes as families, and being left can be viewed as akin to being deserted by a spouse. Although an institute is not a family but a professional organisation, many BPSI members felt a sense of abandonment and betrayal that only began to be healed two decades after the split. Ralph Engle wrote that BPSI's view was that

the role of The American was crucial and that PINE's friends in The American had made the split possible. BPSI felt betrayed, as The American had seemed to act so uncharacteristically. In similar situations before (and since), it had always played the mediator, working diligently to avert a split or to patch one up before things went too far.131

Apart from the fact that betrayal was a 'two-way street'-those who formed PINE felt betrayed by Jim Mann and other leaders within the BPSI132-the 'friends in The American' hypothesis is not borne out by the facts of the particular situation. Since the division seemed to the members of the committee to be a fait accompli, the committee wanted to help them make it work. Fleming was furious with the three members of the Committee for their recommendation.133 The McLaughlin committee's decision in favour of PINE was vital since they had not carried out Fleming's instructions to attempt to conciliate and delay the split.

The McLaughlin committee listened to different views. The quiet, modulated fashion of the committee's interviews with many Boston analysts contrasted with McLaughlin's recent experiences with Los Angeles analysts, although the underlying passions in Boston were very strong indeed. McLaughlin thought PINE viewed themselves as 'pure in the analytic position' and heard from PINE that the BPSI was getting too big and hardening its administrative arteries. In McLaughlin's opinion, 'BPSI did not want them to split but couldn't stand them any longer and the PINE people wanted out. There was not the destructive ad hominem attacking of one another as far as we were hearing, PINE tried to keep it at the level of, "Let's simplify administration, Let's do analysis that is less cluttered with administration"'.

Nonetheless, McLaughlin was made aware of the level of difficulty in progression through the BPSI to training analyst status. 'The issue of who got to be training analyst and who didn't was as powerful there as it is at every institute in the country'. Nevertheless, as McLaughlin observed, the considerable polarisation meant that, as in any other institute, the focus centred on who has the power to deal with that polarising situation, the training analysts.134

However, some BPSI members who joined PINE became disillusioned with PINE too. Several new members, including Sanford Gifford, Abraham Zaleznik and Ed Daniels, joined at the beginning but left during the first year. Others including Grete Bibring and Helen Tartakoff did not resign but withdrew. Gifford concluded, 'I came close to loathing the zealots on both sides.'135

One event especially triggered resignations and withdrawals from PINE. This involved Rolf Arvidson (a founder of PINE and one of the Boston Five), an unorthodox and innovative analyst whose approach to analytic education alienated a number of members of PINE.136 His habit of taking candidates to the opera and the cinema was seen by some as cultic and superficial. He was viewed as polarising, arrogant, and over-emphasising innovation. On one occasion, Sanford and Ingrid Gifford brought Helen Tartakoff and Grete Bibring to a meeting at Arvidson's house in February 1976.137 Gifford recalled,

Much of the meeting was taken up with Arvidson's effusive account of how he was going to meet all the new candidates and had taken them to see Bergmann's 'The Magic Flute' after which they sat on the floor and talked about the psychoanalytic implications of the film. Both Grete Bibring and Helen Tartakoff were very upset by that degree of intimacy with candidates before they even started their training. They brought up some polite question about that issue and were put down.138

Those criticising him included Grete Bibring, Helen Tartakoff who later withdrew somewhat from PINE, Abraham Zaleznik and Ed Daniels who later rejoined the BPSI. Arvidson had seen Gifford as a spy for the BPSI telling him that if he had come to wreck PINE he was not welcome.'139 Though scarcely a mole, Gifford said he 'really welcomed his attack as a useful pretext to drop my link with PINE.'140

However, in all this, clearly Gardner's contention that Boston psychoanalysis was not harmed by the split is true. Ultimately, both institutes prospered.141 The evils so dreaded by the BPSI analysts did not happen. PINE did not burgeon in numbers nor did it create a large number of bogus training analysts-PINE appointed one training analyst in ten years. The BPSI did not become a low standard, populist organisation with no real interest in analysis nor has PINE come to wrangle for domination of the Boston market. In Gifford's view, the BPSI 'probably incorporated most of the reformist points that were brought up by the reformers at the time of the split'. The BPSI was not a narrow training centre but has numerous extension courses. An organisation of people who support the BPSI, 'Friends of the Institute', have four speakers a year. Gifford commented,

The hope is we would get more patients and it hasn't happened. Scientifically the institute is thriving; in terms of attracting candidates, it has kept up remarkably considering the difficulty of finding analytic patients. Many of the candidates want training and fully accept the idea that they will never have a full-time analytic practice. They may be lucky to have one or two analytic patients. But they really think of analytic training as the best way to get training in psychotherapy.142

The events of the split show how group paranoia can flourish and dominate, promoting deviance amplification so that the warring groups move further and further apart making the differences irreconcilable. However, as in so many other psychoanalytic controversies, the conflicts ultimately involve anointment-the role of and access to training analyst status. Many of the problems derived from events surrounding the deanship and their sequelae, together of course with the closely related omnipresent issues concerning access to training analyst status.

Behind the split

Why should disagreements about educational philosophy and size have led to a split?

Almost all those who left told me that ideological factors about differing theoretical approaches were not involved.143 Gardner held that it was a question of the BPSI having passed its optimal size.144 Robert Pyles, president of the Candidates' Council (representing the BPSI candidates in training) when it was created in 1972, reported the bewilderment of his fellow candidates at the time of the split. Although those BPSI candidates who went over to PINE did not do so out of ideological or theoretical differences,145 there were major differences in how an institute should be run and its involvement with the community. John Gedo asserted that 'there was a serious disagreement about educational philosophy and the very goals of an analytic institute'. In Gedo's opinion, 'Bob Gardner's standards for minimal competence are much higher than those of the group he left behind. The BPSI has always pursued a policy of imperial expansion. Bob was distressed by the plans to emphasise ancillary programs' such as extension and community programs'.146

The lines were by no means rigid. It was never simply populism versus elitism or democracy versus autocracy. Many of those who stayed did not agree with Friedman's group, nor had much sympathy with the idea that institute issues were matters of expertise. On the other side, one of the Boston Five, Rolf Arvidson, was very much a populist, regarded the leading analysts who left as most traditional, and autocratic, 'the ones who want to keep things as they were.'147 Arvidson's reasons for leaving were quite different from those of some of the others. According to Arvidson, the other senior analysts who left

were quite convinced that the BPSI would go down the drain, that all the radicals would take over. But they would save this group of puritans who would keep the flame burning. In the early 1970s there was a revolution going on in the BPSI-people were speaking up. The people who wanted to change had no ideas. The only thing they wanted to become was training analysts. I said, 'All this fuss just for changing some rules about how to elect training analysts-what an absurdity'. So I couldn't have stayed there with these people and I went with the group that left. What I should have done of course was to just have left, period!148

The question of the degree of focus on psychoanalysis concerned standards since, in the opinion of Gardner and his PINE colleagues, to be a skilful analyst required practising a good deal of psychoanalysis in an ongoing way. The training analysts who were to form PINE considered many of the analysts who worked in hospitals and universities should have been ineligible for training analyst status. This was because they did not devote most of their time to five times a week analysis and analytic theory. Therefore, power should not be in their hands.149 Secret views as to who was or was not a good analyst influenced responses to the new proposals for playing a greater part in the BPSI.150 Those passed over for training analyst status were dissatisfied and joined the rebel group. Many joined who did not want to be training analysts but had other axes to grind. They had not been sufficiently appreciated, had not been asked to give courses, did not like the atmosphere, or their feelings had been hurt.151

Gardner suggested that the curious American anglophillia and anglophobia were important for understanding the split. Gardner saw Americans as preoccupied with royalty and aristocracy, honouring and imitating royalty, aristocracy and autocracy while fighting against it. 'Independence Day is every day of the year'. However, the problem for Gardner is when that division is fantasy and when it is reality. A small number of analysts started beating the drum against autocracy, 'but it only took a few and it got louder and louder'. Since the BPSI structure gave the society a great deal of control over the institute, there were differences of opinion as to where to put the tilt. According to Gardner, 'We were very big on autonomy for the institute-that was defined by those who liked to define George 111 against George Washington as "autocracy". They had a vested interest in calling it "autocracy"; we had a vested interest in calling it "autonomy"'. The democracy-autocracy axis provides one way of understanding the differences while another is to consider this divide as screening the real differences. But what were the real differences? In Gardner's opinion, they were 'tragic differences in viewpoint that reasonable decent people could not resolve'.152

However, these differences were not resolvable. One group wanted control of the institute in the interests of autonomy, the other in the interests of democracy. The 'democrats' believed oligarchic power, was being exercised, meaning that the gate was being kept shut to society members wanting a say in institute policy or wanting to achieve training analyst status.

The BPSI's increasing size together with its society/institute tensions provided a setting in which established power relations were bound to be challenged. To many society members there appeared no normal and legitimate process whereby the institute leadership would pass on power to the next generation. Many society members saw their analytic career paths as arbitrarily blocked by the institute leadership. The many members who worked (or had worked) in other institutions did not regard their community involvement as detrimental to the BPSI's psychoanalytic mission. For them the bureaucracy, size and numbers of meetings were the price of a fair and legitimate process of running a professional association of equals. What was ultimately at issue was that the lack of common trust that society members could achieve office or training analyst status in a fair manner involved an inevitable power struggle. Society members wanted more power for the society and its members in the institute.

Zaleznik observed that it was 'a rebellion against that kind of authority with certain economic motives, certain professional motives and advancement to becoming training analysts. I think the training analyst issue is paramount in this whole affair and that the PINE people or those who were associated with them were perceived as not really allowing a younger group to come in and become training analysts and to assume their position'.153

Valenstein maintained that people who wanted to be training analysts who, after the split, became training analysts fuelled much of the discontent.154 Myerson maintained that had they stayed some of the Boston Five would have opposed a number of applications for training analyst status because they did not like the way the applicants talked. 'They made nasty remarks about who was warranted to be a training analyst so that if they had remained then there still would have been the tension. They were right in leaving'.155

The advantages of training analyst status are politically, economically, professionally and psychologically considerable. These include power, prestige, involvement in the institute, increased professional reputation, access to analysing candidates and more referrals. Training analyst status can be the mark of professional success in psychoanalysis, of being a 'genuine analyst', of no longer being excluded from the analytic parental bedroom. The status of training analysts is not simply that they are in a position to exercise political power. Training analysts are often seen to be the 'real' or genuine analysts. They are the analysts of the analysts-in-training and their status is redolent with fantasy and myth.156 Gatekeeping and access to training analyst status were fundamental to the Boston split.157

Arvidson maintained that the model that prevailed at the BPSI was of 'the training analyst who has "power". And the fantasy everybody has of course is that something very special goes on between the training analysts. The fact is the only thing that goes on between them is a lot of meetings; they don't have any different ideas'.158

The way that the BPSI was set up may itself be a reflection of the especially democratic and collegiate traditions in the 'Athens of America'. However, within this formal structure, if the institute was in fact in control, why was this established situation challenged only in the early 1970s instead of earlier? Leonard Friedman told me that he thought that anyone who became an analyst was 'reasonably conservative at the core and to press for change is no likely event'. He saw reverberations of the 1960s when students wanted more of a role than the university governance. 'It was part of the psychological climate that made this seem a reasonable step to take at the time. I am sure it couldn't have happened ten years earlier'.159

When analysts perceive outside problems for psychoanalysis, the threat may be transferred into problems played out within the analytic culture. An ideal, pure and unsullied analytic imago becomes invoked as a solution, which so often has contributed further to the problems of analysts. In a 1974 discussion paper to the BPSI Gifford maintained that the dissatisfaction within the BPSI related to disappointment in psychoanalysis itself becomes 'displaced onto a dissatisfaction with BPSI "structure". We are, in my opinion, barking up the wrong tree, seeking "constitutional" solutions for scientific and personal problems'. For Gifford,

Besides seeking a sheltering mother in the stony bosom of the BPSI administration, we are also 'blaming mother', in a natural but childlike way, for everything else that has gone wrong in our professional lives. Like Harlow's monkeys, we are seeking comfort from a chicken wire mother (composed of committees and By-laws) who was never intended to provide warmth, and no wonder we are disappointed.160

After the deluge

PINE remained a small group pursuing their own interests just as they proposed. The result for the BPSI was that it became more democratic with a gradual move toward a better balanced society/institute relation and the Education Committee has more elected members. After the split, many teaching positions and positions of power were opened up, allowing for the appointment of quite a number of new and younger training analysts. But, contrary to fears), there has been no flood. The Students Committee remains composed entirely of training analysts so the more radical proposals have been not implemented.161 The peacemaker president of the BPSI (1975-78), Charles Magraw, became the first non-training analyst elected president. The BPSI maintains, as Gifford put it, a 'certain old-time maverick position' among APsaA institutes. It has always had the highest number of academics and the highest number of members who never joined the national organisation and were regarded as malcontents. With time and another generation of analysts, the interrelation between the BPSI and PINE has become less bitter.162 PINE leaders made access to training analyst status from the PINE membership easier after a few years. The existence of two institutes has provided more teaching and power positions all told.

Even had the split not occurred, there would have been major reforms within the BPSI, altering the balance between the society and institute.163 PINE remained an institute without a society until 1991 when the Psychoanalytic Society of New England East was accepted as an APsaA affiliate.164 After several months of negotiation, the BPSI and PINE wrote to all their members in July 1995 offering dual membership. For $100 members of one society could join the other society as nonvoting members, attending the other's programs and meetings.165 This is at best a symbolic gesture-members of both societies can in any case attend the others' meetings free. Why should they pay for the privilege?

The obvious physical differences show up the attitudinal ones. The BPSI owns a three-story building (once the residence of a Massachusetts Governor) which houses a library, lecture theatre and seminar rooms for training and research meetings. The BPSI offers significant outreach programs mainly to mental health professionals.166

PINE members have been happy to keep a small institute with no building with its associated administration and costs. As distinct from most other institutes, the lust for power seems notably absent in PINE as 'power' is often thrust upon unwilling office bearers. This small organisation accepts just three or four new candidates annually. If PINE were to acquire a building or become involved in financial constraints requiring assessments from members beyond the faculty, some society/institute tensions would arise. Tensions could also arise because there were not sufficient faculty positions for graduates, but the mix of 25 members and 25 candidates currently allows enough participation by interested members.

The psychoanalytic culture

Another element in understanding these complex events concerns the quality of the psychoanalytic culture itself. Begun as a revolutionary and subversive approach psychoanalysis became a pervasive part of American culture (albeit in bowdlerised form) but lost a great deal of its vitality. Heinz Kohut wrote that 'enthusiasm' for psychoanalytic ideals and the intellectual enterprise was a relatively absent quality in psychoanalysts of the next generation to his own.167 Those who left to form PINE not only felt a lack of enthusiasm for psychoanalysis as an enterprise at the BPSI but also enthusiastically rallied around the charismatic figure and winning personality of Bob Gardner.168 According to Chicago self psychologist, Arnold Goldberg who knew the BPSI situation, 'A great deal of the malaise of psychoanalysis is due to our waning enthusiasm brought about by a lack of idealisation of either the theory or the leaders. The turn to personal grandiosity after this failure is responsible for the incredible outbursts of narcissistic rage seen (all too frequently) amongst our colleagues'. Dismissing the blame for the BPSI troubles as related to size, ideology or organisational structure, Goldberg believed that sadly 'it is all hurt feelings and a lack of someone to really look up to.'169

Donald Burnham postulated that two currents, orthodoxy and eclecticism, vied with each other in psychoanalytic institutes and served as an impetus for splits. Those with eclectic leanings including those working in universities and hospitals might favour a large, diverse group while the orthodox would rather a 'smaller, more select group' and these issues persist even after the occurrence of the splits.170 There is a resonance of this in the Boston split in that those focusing on the wider community remained located in the BPSI while some of those favouring a greater focus on psychoanalysis left.

The analysis of the split demonstrates again the centrality of the issue of training analyst status as fuelling the fires of discontent within psychoanalytic institutions. However, what is the public assessment of 'good' analysis and 'bad'? Institutional and educational decisions so often seem to reduce down to a power struggle and make it difficult to go beyond the private club structure of psychoanalytic institutions into the public realm. However, such a structure raises deeper questions about different conceptions of psychoanalysis and its role, the role of anointment, its relation to the experiential nature of psychoanalysis, and to the lack of a psychoanalytic knowledge base that is agreed to for training as a psychoanalyst. I return to such endemic problems in the concluding section.

___________

1 A Boston analyst even wrote a novel including these events (P. Buttenwieser, Free Association, Little, Brown and Company, Boston, 1981).

2 Gifford interview, Boston, April 19, 1981.

3 Zaleznik interview, Cambridge, April 27, 1981.

4 McLaughlin interview, Pittsburgh, July 2, 1994.

5 S. Gifford, 'Between the wars: psychoanalysis in Europe, 1918-1938', Psychiatric Clinics of North America, 17, 3, September, 1994: 649-65. p. 652; I. Hendrick, 'The birth of an institute' in his edited collection, The birth of an institute, The Bond Wheelwright Company, Freeport, Maine, 1961, p. 1-2, 14-16. Those young doctors who went to European psychoanalytic institutes were doing what medical graduates of the time usually did. Since residencies had not yet been established in the 1920s, it was customary for American medical graduates to spend a year studying in Europe where the specialties were more developed. American doctors could go to Vienna to study their preferred specialty, enrol in the American Medical Association of Vienna, study and receive a certificate of achievement (Lewin, 'The organization of psychoanalytic education' in I Hendrick, ed., The birth of an institute, p. 101; Murray, 'Concluding remarks' in I. Hendrick, ed., p. 122).

6 I. Hendrick, ed., The birth of an institute, p. vi; Hendrick, 'The birth of an institute', pp. 2-4, 22-4; Michaels, 'Chairman's remarks' in I. Hendrick, ed., The birth of an institute, p. 156.

7 I. Hendrick, 'The birth of an institute', pp. 49-52.

8 S. Gifford, 'Psychoanalysis in Boston: innocence and experience. Introduction to the panel discussion- April 14, 1973', in G. Gifford, ed., Psychoanalysis, psychotherapy and the New England Medical Scene, 1894-1944, Science History Publications/USA, New York, 1978, pp. 330-36. As set forth in its constitution the mission of the BPSI is 'the study and advancement of psychoanalysis in its scientific, therapeutic and cultural aspects. The functions of this society and institute shall include the maintenance of adequate qualifications for the practice of psychoanalysis; the official recognition of those who have these qualifications; the conduct of a professional school or institute to supervise the education of psychoanalysts and other professional people associated with psychoanalysis, the establishment and maintenance of clinical facilities; the representation of psychoanalysis in the community; and the development of the relationship of psychoanalysis to medicine and other sciences'.

9 See I. Hendrick, 'The birth of an institute', pp. 57-62. According to Gifford, 'Ever since the late forties and fifties, Boston had an unusually high proportion of analysts who were part-time in various kinds of teaching in academic and research pursuits outside the institute and most of them had no difficulty with this double role; analysis was part of one's life and one followed three to four analytic patients but your daily work was in a hospital or medical school. At that time there was an attraction to being an analyst and head of department at the same time. There was Myerson at Boston University, Fox at the Brigham. There were strong analytic traditions at Massachusetts General, Beth Israel and MacLean. At present, heads of department are not chosen among analysts' (Gifford interview, Cambridge, April 19, 1981). By contrast in New York relatively few analysts held academic appointments at hospitals such as Columbia and Mount Sinai.

10 Myerson interview, Boston, December 1, 1982. Levin and Michaels reported that as 'a consequence of the active role of psychoanalysts in residency training programs, the resident psychiatrist in a large medical centre generally comes into professional contact with analysts and candidates and is apt to be supervised by them. He is therefore likely to become psycho-analytically oriented to some degree even if he does not undergo training at an institute' (S. Levin and J. Michaels, 'The participation of psycho-analysts in the medical institutions of Boston', Int. J. of Psycho-Anal, XLII, 1961, p. 275).

11 The relationship between psychoanalysis and therapy to the Boston medical scene was the subject of a major published symposium, G. Gifford ed., Psychoanalysis, psychotherapy and the New England Medical Scene, 1894-1944.

12 Rosett interview, Newton, April 20, 1981; Gifford interview, Boston, July 15, 1992. According to Rosett, compared with New York analysts, Boston analysts tended to subscribe more to the Puritan tradition and consume a little less conspicuously. In Cambridge there is even what Gifford termed 'the cult of seediness'. Analysts are influenced by the academic values that pervade the Boston area. Rosett claimed that Boston analysts are more interested in study groups and being recognised in the academic world than in New York (Rosett interview, Newton, April 20, 1981). However, this is debatable. Analysts in the New York Psychoanalytic Institute have placed high value on study groups within the institute while placing less emphasis on outside involvements including academic positions. As a part of the university, Columbia has always placed great emphasis on participation in academic affairs.

13 The society's tasks are restricted to the monthly Scientific Meetings together with the Library and extension courses, As society rather than institute activities these activities have normally been accorded second rate status.

14 Myerson interview, Boston, December 1, 1982.

15 Elliott Jaques described some useful ways of understanding organisations. The assumed organisation is the patterns of connections that are assumed to be the way the organisation operates by the members of the organisation. The extant organisation is the way the organisation operates shown by systematic research of the organisation. The manifest organisation is the structure that appears on the organisation chart or constitution. Jaques defines the requisite organisation as 'The pattern of connections which ought to exist if roles in the system are to work efficiently and operate as required by the nature of the work to be done and the nature of human nature' (Jaques, Requisite organization: The CEO's guide to creative structure and leadership, Cason Hall and Co., Arlington VA, 1989, Glossary).

16 James Mann, personal communication, February 20, 1995.

17 Gifford, personal communication, August 3, 1995.

18 Interview with Arnold Modell in V. Hunter, Psychoanalysts talk, The Guilford Press, New York, 1994, pp. 358-59; Arthur Valenstein interview, Cambridge, October 15, 1996; interview with Sam Silverman, Brookline, October 17, 1996.

19 Valenstein interview, Cambridge, October 15, 1996.

20 Silverman interview, Brookline, October 17, 1996.

21 James Mann, personal communication, February 20, 1995.

22 In Boston, there was George Gardner at Children's Medical Center and the Judge Baker Guidance Center, Alfred Stanton at McLean Hospital and Elvin Semrad at Boston State Hospital and Massachusetts Mental Health Center. Gifford, 'The first fifty years: 1933-1983', BPSI Newsletter, Vol. 1, 1, 1984, p. 7.

23 This was only the beginning of the major decline in psychoanalysis, which became a major issue in the 1980s and still more critical in the 1990s.

24 Gifford, 'The first fifty years: 1933-1983', p. 7.

25 The metropolises of New York, Chicago and Los Angeles were better off in this regard in terms of the APsaA affiliated institutes. While New York had three institutes, the population served by Manhattan was immense. Chicago had only one institute and Los Angeles two serving far bigger populations than the BPSI.

26 The medical restriction was part of a restraint of trade that kept the numbers down. Now that psychoanalysis is less popular, medical candidates do not generally apply. Bob Gardner and John Gedo, who maintain a 'little Englander', position hold that analysis is best off as a small specialty (Gedo, personal communication, July 1, 1994). As Gedo has argued, 'The crux of our profession's vulnerability to the unfavorable social milieu is our unverbalized insistence on two mutually exclusive goals: on one hand, on continually increasing our numbers on the other, on continuing to participate in the uninterrupted, progressive enrichment of the American upper bourgeoisie' (J. Gedo, The biology of clinical encounters: Psychoanalysis as a science of mind, The Analytic Press, Hillsdale, 1991, p. 161).

27 S. Gifford, Letter to Paul Myerson, October 16, 1973. Gifford is an analyst and psychoanalytic historian who has been intimately involved with the BPSI since he became a candidate in 1946. He currently chairs the APsaA's History and Archives Committee.

28 S. Gifford, 'The first fifty years: 1933-1983', p. 7.

29 James Mann, personal communication, February 20, 1995.

30 Edward Daniels, 'Annual Report of the president, April 1, 1970-March 31, 1971'.

31 James Mann, personal communication, February 20, 1995.

32 Edward Daniels, 'Annual Report of the president, April 1, 1970-March 31, 1971'.

33 Mann stated his general goals as dean for the coming academic year noting four areas of responsibility: the institute, the society, BPSI's relationship with universities and their resident training programs and its relationship to the community at large (James Mann, personal communication, February 20, 1995).

34 Mann spent about 25 hours a week on his duties and interviewed 55 candidates He found the demands of the deanship 'constant, varied and interesting'. (James Mann, personal communication, February 20, 1995).

35 James Mann, personal communication, February 20, 1995.

36 Mann's 1972 Report quoted in R. Engle, 'Boston split throws organizational questions into sharp relief', The American Psychoanalyst, 30, 1, 1996, p. 32.

37 James Mann, personal communication, February 20, 1995.

38 Gifford, personal communication, March 31, 1995.

39 Gifford interview, Cambridge, April 19, 1981.

40 Myerson interview, Boston, December 1, 1982.

41 R. Engle, 'Boston split throws organizational questions into sharp relief', p. 32.

42 Valenstein interview, Cambridge, October 15, 1996.

43 R. Engle, 'Boston split throws organizational questions into sharp relief', p. 32.

44 The other members of that committee were Bob Gardner, Helen Tartakoff, Arthur Valenstein, Edmund Payne, and from the Board of Trustees, Miles Shore and Irving Rabb (Paul Myerson, President's Newsletter 11, May 24, 1973).

45 Myerson, President's Newsletter, 11, May 24, 1973.

46 Myerson, President's Newsletter, 12, September 3, 1973.

47 Gifford interview, Cambridge, December 8, 1982.

48 Friedman interview, Welseley, April 28, 1981.

49 Myerson interview, Boston, December 1, 1982.

50 Myerson interview, Boston, December 1, 1982.

51 Myerson's emphasis. Myerson, President's Newsletter, 12, September 3, 1973.

52 Gifford interview, Cambridge, December 8, 1982.

53 Gifford interview, Cambridge, December 8, 1982.

54 Gifford, personal communications, January 18, 1995; April 19, 1995; Gifford interview, Cambridge, December 8, 1982.

55 Myerson interview, Boston, December 1, 1982.

56 Friedman interview, Welseley, April 28, 1981.

57 Friedman, Memo to Charles Magraw, January 18, 1974.

58 Friedman interview, Welseley, April 28, 1981.

59 This helps to free the analysis from academic considerations and the judgement about graduation. This is now policy in all APsaA institutes.

60 Friedman considered also proposing that the training analyst system be reviewed but decided against it since few analysts would publicly challenge that system. Friedman's view was that the two-tier system should be replaced by one where any qualified analyst could conduct training analyses. This would result in a more liberal system free from the present centralised power system.

61 Friedman interview, Welseley, April 28, 1981.

62 Myerson, President's Newsletter, 13, November 26, 1973; Gifford interview, Cambridge, December 8, 1982.

63 Friedman interview, Welseley, April 28, 1981; Myerson interview, Boston, December 1, 1982.

64 Friedman, Memo to Charles Magraw, January 18, 1974.

65 Minutes of Small Discussion Group, Committee of the Whole, Boston Psychoanalytic Society, January 2, 1974.

66 Robert Gardner and Samuel Kaplan, 'Synopsis of proposed developments in the society/institute', Memo to Charles Magraw, January 22, 1974.

67 Myerson interview, Boston, December 1, 1982.

68 Letter of Arvidson, Daniels, Gardner, Silverman and Stock to Arthur Valenstein, May 28, 1974.

69 Gardner interview, October 14, 1996.

70 Silverman interview, Brookline, October 17, 1996; Gardner interview, Cambridge, October 15, 1996.

71 Silverman interview, Brookline, October 17, 1996.

72 Arthur Valenstein, President's Newsletter 15, May 31, 1974.

73 Schwaber interview, Brookline, July 19, 1992; Valenstein interview, Cambridge, October 15, 1996.

74 Myerson interview, Boston, December 1, 1982.

75 Pyles interview, Boston, July 17,1992.

76 Myerson interview, Boston, December 1, 1982.

77 McLaughlin interview, Pittsburgh, July 2, 1994.

78 Valenstein interview, Cambridge, October 15, 1996..

79 Valenstein interview, Cambridge, October 15, 1996..

80 American Psychoanalytic Association, Report on the BPSI situation, April 23, 1975.

81 Gifford interview, Cambridge, December 8, 1982.

82 Gardner interview, July 16, 1992.

83 Gardner interview, July 16, 1992.

84 Silverman interview, Brookline, October 17, 1996.

85 Letter to BPSI members by Arthur Valenstein, March 31, 1975.

86 Valenstein interview, Cambridge, October 15, 1996.

87 Gifford, personal communication, April 19, 1995; interview, October 21, 1996.

88 PINE statement, 1974.

89 Gardner interview, Cambridge, July 16, 1992.

90 PINE Statement, 1974.

91 Such issues included the 'hyphenated' society/institute structure and access to training analyst status. Even in small institutes things can be just as bad. Discontents and splits have been endemic to psychoanalysis right from the beginning of the history of the analytic movement when numbers were very small indeed. PINE has not succeeded because of its small size any more than the BPSI has because of its large size.

92 Silverman interview, Brookline, October 17, 1996.

93 Gifford, personal communication, April 19, 1995.

94 Gifford interview, Boston, October 21, 1996.

95 Gifford, Letter to Peter Reich, November 20, 1974. Gifford wrote a little later about this period: 'I thought of the proposed new institute as a tiny balloon, taking off from the flight-deck with five men in a basket. I sincerely hoped that the nucleus of the dissenting group would take off in a five-man submarine headed in the opposite direction, leaving the rest of us to conduct business as usual, whether we wished them Good Riddance or Pax Vobiscum' (Gifford, Notes for the Visiting Committee, James McLaughlin, Chairman, January 24, 1975).

96 Gifford, Letter to Peter Reich, November 20, 1974.

97 Robert Gardner, Letter to Sanford Gifford. October 21, 1974.

98 S. Gifford, Letter to Robert Gardner, October 23, 1974.

99 Minutes of Small Discussion Group, Committee of the Whole, Boston Psychoanalytic society, January 7, 1974.

100 John Gedo, personal communication, July 1, 1994.

101 R. Engle, 'Boston split throws organizational questions into sharp relief', p. 32.

102 PINE Statement, 1974.

103 Telegram to Edward Weinshel, December 8, 1974.

104 Charles Magraw and 60 other members of BPSI, Letter to Edward Weinshel, December 10, 1974; American Psychoanalytic Association, Chronology BPSI-PINE split. April 23, typescript.

105 Report of Committee on New Training Facilities to the Board on Professional Standards, American Psychoanalytic Association, December 12, 1974.

106 Gifford, Letter to Arthur Valenstein, January 18, 1975.

107 Gifford, Notes for the Visiting Committee. James McLaughlin Chairman. January 24, 1975.

108 Gifford, Letter to Arthur Valenstein, January 18, 1975.

109 Gifford, Notes for the Visiting Committee. James McLaughlin Chairman. January 24, 1975. As distinct from the BPSI position, Gifford supported PINE's accreditation and wrote to Edward Weinshel, Chairman of the Board on Professional Standards conveying his middle position shared by half a dozen other BPSI colleagues. 'I personally believe that the more quickly PINE can be approved, the sooner some kind of uneasy peace will be restored and discussions can begin on some form of future coexistence' (Sanford Gifford letter to Weinshel April 25, 1975).

110 American Psychoanalytic Association, Minutes of the Report of Committee on New Training Facilities to Board on Professional Standards. Minutes of Annual Meeting- April 30-May 4, 1975. J. Amer. Psychoanal. Assn. 23, p. 874.

111 McLaughlin stated that he 'had no friends at PINE who had any significance to me at that time. Bob Gardner later on became a friend, mainly in consequence of having taken that position' (McLaughlin interview, Pittsburgh, July 2, 1994).

112 McLaughlin interview, Pittsburgh, July 2, 1994.

113 American Psychoanalytic Association, Minutes of the Report of Committee on New Training Facilities to Board on Professional Standards. Minutes of Annual Meeting-April 30-May 4, 1975. J. Amer. Psychoanal. Assn. 23: 873-75, p. 874.

114 In Buttenweiser's novel, Free Association, set during the split a protagonist is told that there is a chance the analysts who walked out would form their own institute. 'The American will never allow them', she scoffed. 'This city is already overrun with institutes. They're a glut on the market. No, they'll be back, begging to be reinstated' (Buttenwieser, Free Association, p. 205).

115 Gifford interview, Boston, October 21, 1996.

116 Gardner interview, Cambridge, October 14, 1996.

117 Gardner interview, Cambridge, April 13, 1981.

118 American Psychoanalytic Association, Minutes of the Report of Committee on New Training Facilities to Board on Professional Standards. Minutes of Annual Meeting- April 30-May 4, 1975. J. Amer. Psychoanal. Assn. 23, p. 875.

119 Gardner interview, Cambridge, April 13, 1981.

120 John Gedo, personal communication, July 1, 1994.

121 The attempted secession in Washington took place after the BPSI-PINE split. It failed both because of hindrance from the APsaA's Board on Professional Standards together with local problems of the timing of accreditation of training analyst status by the Pittsburgh Psychoanalytic Institute which offered to sponsor the secessionists (McLaughlin interview, Pittsburgh, July 2, 1994). In fact, Stanley Goodman, Chairman of the Board on Professional Standards at the time of the Washington events, was adamant, according to Arnold Goldberg that the APsaA would never again allow the kind of arrangement granted PINE, which meant that the APsaA did not allow the Washington secession. Goldberg said that some of the Washington analysts became like wandering Jews without a home (A. Goldberg, personal communication, July 5, 1994). That the Washington secessionists did not succeed and were greatly hurt provides evidence that if it had not been for the ad hoc committee's recommendations, PINE would not have been accepted by the APsaA.

There have been no splits since the 1970s partly because the APsaA slowly allowed more heterodoxy such as object relations theory and self psychology and there became less reason to split on ideological grounds. Moreover, the waning eminence of psychoanalysis has meant there is less reason to fight for turf since the turf is less prized (McLaughlin interview, Pittsburgh, July 2, 1994).

122 Zaleznik interview, Cambridge, April 27, 1981.

123 Myerson interview, Boston, December 1, 1982.

124 Interview with Rolf Arvidson, Cambridge, December 7, 1982.

125 Gardner interview, Cambridge, July 16, 1992.

126 Sanford Gifford commented, 'I think, looking back, that the Deutsch-Bibring rift played little if any part in the split. Its origins were in the early '40s, and the battle was joined over Deutsch's populist efforts to establish a psychotherapy clinic for veterans and their war-widows, which was opposed by the Bibrings and (probably) Ives Hendrick as not analysis. The rift existed, like underwater shoals, only palpable when you strike a rock; most candidates completed their training without being aware of it. And, by the time of the split, Edward Bibring and Felix Deutsch had long been dead. Helene was no longer very active in Institute politics. And, as you point out, Grete Bibring's and Helen Tartakoff's flirtation with PINE was short-lived' (Gifford, personal communication, July 12, 1997).

127 Valenstein interview, Cambridge, October 15, 1996.

128 Gifford interview, Boston, October 21, 1996.

129 Gardner interview, Cambridge, April 13, 1981.

130 McLaughlin interview, Pittsburgh, July 2, 1994.

131 Engle, 'Boston split throws organizational questions into sharp relief', p. 32.

132 Valenstein interview, Cambridge, October 15, 1996.

133 The committee was well aware that if they did not try to stop PINE, as a new institute its natural course would bring it under the purview of an enhancing committee, the APsaA's Committee on New Training Facilities (CNTF) rather than the more inspector-general Committee on instit